


Happy Surprises

by Meowzalot



Series: Play Date [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Kidlock, M/M, Mystrade fluff, Protective Big Brother Mycroft, Sexual content coming soon, Teacher Greg, mystrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:56:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3987412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowzalot/pseuds/Meowzalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of 'Play Date'. I would suggest reading the first part. :3</p>
<p>Greg Lestrade finds himself growing attached to the older brother of Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Date?

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I hadn't meant to put it off like this but I hope there's still interest for a part 2 of Play Date. No beta so any mistakes are my own.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it! The first chapter is quite short but this is mainly to see if there's still interest. Any other chapters will be much longer. Promise.

Just an hour of talking to his mum was worse than all the kids in his class hyped up on sugar. That was the only thought crossing Greg Lestrades mind as he listened to the older woman ramble. She wasn’t exactly annoying. He loved his mum but she did have the tendency to ramble or repeat herself.

As the conversation finally started to die down she finally asked the one question he’d been praying she’d just forget about.

“Greg, sweetheart, are you seeing anyone?”

What was he supposed to say to that?

Technically it would be a yes but it felt more complicated than that.

Greg had been shagging Mycroft Holmes for a few weeks by this point. Well, not that they got to do that often. Mostly he was at the house when Sherlock was, and keeping that boy out of trouble was a job unto itself, and with John around the boys were far too easy to lose. Plus, Mycroft was busy with his own work.

Realizing he’d been quiet for a little too long he tried to play it off.

“Who is she? Greg, you never were very good at keeping secrets. Who is she? Is she a nice girl?”

“Mum, can we just drop it?” He sighed, feeling again like the kid caught in a lie. What was it about parents that just brought that out in their kids?

His cell gave a buzz, indicating another call coming in.

Pulling the phone back Greg felt his chest tighten at the name ‘Mycroft Holmes’.

“Mum, I’m gonna have to call you back.”  
“Greggy? Gregory Lestra-“

Oh, he’d pay for that one later. No doubt about that but Greg ignored that feeling as he clicked to the other call, the tension in his body melting away at the ever so calm ‘Hello’.

“Miss me?”

“Honestly, Gregory, we are not high school aged nitwits.”

“So, you don’t miss me, then?”

Greg smirked at the not really annoyed sigh on the other side of the line, chuckling to himself.

“It’s only been two days but I must admit that it is. . bothersome I haven’t seen you in those two days.”

“I’ll take it. So, how’s the job coming along?”

The conversation was simple, both of them talking about their day and Greg telling funny stories of the kids. He didn’t dare bring up the fact his mother was currently trying to fix him up with any family friends daughter that was breathing.

“Gregory, before I go I was wondering if you would join me for dinner tomorrow night.”

Greg clicked his tongue while thinking. “Sounds fine. Where are we getting take-out from?”

Both Holmes brothers shared a distain for most public eateries it seemed. Preferring take-out if they were going to have something not at the house.

“Ah, I don’t believe the place I was thinking of does take-out. Our reservations are set for seven.”

Wait. Not take out?

“Are the boys joining us?”

Now Mycroft chuckled. The sound low, almost primal and Greg felt his jeans grow rather uncomfortable.

“Not this time.”

“Oh.”

“I look forward to it, Gregory.”

Oh hell. Greg couldn’t quite process everything as the phone went dead. Finally setting the phone down he rubbed both hands over his face, torn between groaning and laughing.  
That bloody tease. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

 

With it being a Saturday he wasn’t lucky enough to have school distract him. True there were plenty of papers to look over but every time he started Greg felt his mind wander, feet practically twitching with the desire to get up and move around.

Greg didn’t realize how far he’d drifted into his own thoughts until his cell buzzed, actually causing him to jump a little bit. Well, wasn’t that manly.

**Molly H.:** Greg! You want to come out tonight? Some of us are doing a pub crawl.

**Greg L.:** Can’t. Plans. Maybe next time.

It only took a few seconds for the texts to turn into a call. If it were anyone but Molly, arguably the best science teacher he’d ever met, Greg would have just ignored it.  
“Yes, Molly?”

“Who is she?” Molly sounded damn near close to giggling already.

“Maybe I’m just tired. Maybe I just need to be alone after having a week full of test prep. Ever think of that?” He joked.

“You could bring her along.” Molly gently suggested.

“Who’s coming?”

“Sally, Phil for sure. We might be meeting up with a few of my friends later on.”

The idea of bringing Mycroft around his co-workers was. . interesting. Doing a pub crawl with Mycroft Holmes was flat out hilarious to think about but why would Mycroft want to tag along on something like that?

“Greg? You still there?”

“Oh, ya, sorry, Molls. I don’t think tonight is going to work. Maybe next time.”

Molly sighed but didn’t push, which he was thankful for. “Alright but I want to hear more later. Deal?”

“Deal. Also, could you not talk to Sally and Anderson about this?”

“About what? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Later, Greg!”

It was tempting to ask Mycroft if he wanted to have dinner then join the others for a few drinks. Was it too soon? They hadn’t really ever had a talk about what they were to each other.

This could all be nothing more than some fun. Sometimes you just needed a good shag here and there without the shadow of commitment hanging over your head. Some of his old school mates said that’s what he needed to do after the divorce. Go out, snag a few younger women and just enjoy himself. It had never occurred to Greg how being a teacher who loved his students would be almost the perfect hook.

Not that he’d actually tried it. There just hadn’t been time between moving, teaching, and everything else.

By the time it was time to start getting ready for dinner Greg had worked himself into quite a loop. A hot shower helped somewhat, and now he just focused on trying not to look like a broke, middle aged, newly divorced chap that Mycroft had found on the streets.

Black slacks, a nice white button up he’d just had pressed. Looking at his own reflection Greg grinned, more than a little proud.

Been too busy to try and sleep around but not too busy to work out.

A brisk knock at the front door yanked Greg back to reality and he frowned. Who the hell could that be now?

 

“Good evening, Gregory.”

“Mycroft?” Greg couldn’t hold back the surprise to find Mycroft Holmes at his door looking far too good. He also looked rather young. Not dangerously young but something in his face appeared more relaxed behind the normal know it all expression. “I thought you’d be sending your assistant.”

“It was brought to my attention doing so for a date might-“

“Date?”

Mycrofts cheeks turned pink now, and Greg could just see where his fingers tightened on that umbrella he always carried.

Leaning forward he grasped Mycrofts chin gently, pressing their lips together.

Mycroft pulled back first, cheeks flushed now for a different reason and breath coming out in a shudder before he straightened fully.

“Shall we, Gregory?” Stepping to the side on the steps he gestured to the sleek black car, the driver holding one of the back doors open.

Suddenly Greg felt a little underdressed.


	2. Too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I sure got slack here, huh? My new job is eating up all of my time, and this chapter isn't as fleshed out as I wanted but I think I know what to do now to try and balance everything out!
> 
> So, please don't give up on the fic(or me either I guess. haha).
> 
> I guess this chapter could be considered the calm before the storm. :3

Gregory Lestrade didn’t really see himself below other people in this world. Not above either but just equal. He had worked hard his entire life and thought he was doing a pretty damn good job at this whole being an adult, minus the whole cheating wife who’d run off with her lover but details, right?

Walking through the doors to a restaurant that, almost quite literally, took his breath away Greg felt somewhat small.

There was so era expressed in these deep burgundy walls, in the trimmings painted in a color he couldn’t quite match. Everything was so utterly timeless.

And the people!

Bloody hell the people were something from magazines.

His clothes felt dirty, which was impossible. And the once comfortable material felt rough against his skin.

Even the bloody waiters and waitresses looked better dressed than him!

Greg twitched at something brushing lightly against his right hand. Glancing over he flushed when his eyes met Mycrofts for just a split second.

“Hush, Gregory.”

Greg chuckled softly. Was he really acting so tense?

The Maître D’ was the one to seat them, practically fawning over Mycroft. Clearly Mycroft was well known.

They were sat in a somewhat back corner, more private than a table sitting on the main floor. The booth was surprising comfortable and felt almost plush.

“Damn place must be dry clean only.” Greg mumbled after the Maître D’ walked off.

From the corner of his eye he saw Mycroft smirk before taking a sip of his water to cover it. With a hand hidden by the table cloth Greg reached over, brushing finger-tips over Mycrofts thigh.

Mycroft tensed, coughing past the last sip of water.

Goddamn there was just something about this man. Greg couldn’t quite put his finger on it but as he gave Mycroft a small pat on the back he grinned, almost leaning over to steal a kiss when another waiter appeared.

Pulling back Greg glanced at the menu with puzzlement before flipping it over. Well, he hadn’t really expected a place Mycroft Holmes would frequent would have a beer list. He’d never been much of a wine man though, usually finding the stuff went to his head way too easily.

“A bottle of the 2012 Donnhoff Oberhauser Riesling.”

“Right away, sir.”

“Bottle? Trying to get me drunk, eh?”

“And why would I need to do that, Gregory?” Mycroft asked, eyes roving over his face for barely a second. “While I do enjoy your inebriated state there is hardly a reason I would need to get you drunk.”

“Ya ya. I’m just a willing whore either way, is that what you’re getting at?” Greg joked.

The sound of someone clearing their throat had his head whipping to the side to see the Maître D’ standing there, ice bucket stand already in front of the table and bottle of wine in hand.

Maybe the booth could just open up and swallow him whole. Surely it was fancy enough for that.

Once the wine had been served they were alone again, and Greg ran a hand over his face with a groan. While Mycroft gave his version of a full blown laugh, which was merely a small shake of his shoulders as he cleared his throat to control himself. Someone from the outside might see it as nothing more but Greg knew he was being laughed at.

“Wanker.” He mumbled, reaching under the table to give his lovers thigh a little squeeze.

Greg wasn’t sure how but he felt himself relaxing. Most likely just having Mycroft around helped. He always felt a little more relaxed with the other man around. It was a little unnerving how the Holmes was already that much a part of his life. Not even just Mycroft either. Sherlock was part of that package.

They weren’t about to move in together and live happily ever after yet but Sherlock wasn’t stupid, and Mycroft hadn’t seen the point in hiding the relationship from the boy.

Still, they didn’t go around flaunting the relationship either. Greg tried not to stay over too often, and Mycroft tried not to stay gone too long. Since he already had to travel for work it could get a little hard but Sherlock came first.

So, it was a surprise when Mycroft suggested returning to Gregs flat. Together.

By this point Greg was feeling a warm rush from good wine, good food, and wonderful company. The idea of Mycroft being with him all night without the chance of being interrupted was almost too much!

His finger-tips traveled up the mans thigh, lips brushing the side of his throat.

“Gregory!”

“You always get this breathy little tone to your voice when you get excited. Know that, love?” Greg whispered, “I guess it’s your version of begging.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed that your observation skills are so keen in the matters of sexual prowess?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

Greg brushed the back of his hand ever so lightly between the others thighs, feeling more than a little pleased at what he found.

Pulling back he placed a chaste kiss against Mycrofts cheek before standing from the booth, holding his hand out.

 

“Impressed yet?”

 

Rolling over the next morning Greg was a little surprised to find Mycroft still there. Snaking his arms around the still figure he pressed a gentle kiss against the other mans neck, pressing his chest to Mycrofts back.

Soft light spilling into the room suggested early morning and Greg pretended they could just lie about all morning. Not doing anything, not having anything expected of them. Well, he would have been fine with the usual clatter Sherlock brought with him.

This was dangerous territory.

Thinking of lazy mornings in bed with Mycroft that were disrupted by Sherlock causing havoc. It was idyllic. So wonderfully picture perfect it made Gregs chest tighten but it was too bold of him to think that.

They enjoyed each other’s company a great deal. A fact neither could over look but that didn’t mean much in the long term, did it?

After all, hadn’t the woman he’d loved cheated on him before running off? At one point Greg had pictured lazy mornings with her, maybe a kid or two running around as they laughed together.

“Do please stop thinking, Gregory.” Mycroft grumbled, rolling onto his back which landed him looking up into Gregs face.

“Bloody mind readers.” Greg tried to sound annoyed but the familiar frustrated sigh from Mycroft, followed by the smallest of eye rolls, burned out any annoyance he might have actually had.

Mycroft was not a morning person, and while he could observe everything about a person by the mere clearing of their throat there was just something about him waking up that made it harder for him to understand a joke. Not that he was a big joker anyway but waking up Mycroft took things far too seriously in the morning.

That warm feeling squeezed tightly in his chest again, and Greg leaned down to press a small kiss to Mycrofts forehead.

“Last night was fantastic, love.”

“Of course.”

Also, Mycroft could be a right cocky git first thing in the morning as well. Greg really shouldn’t have found that charming but he did.

Chuckling softly he went to get up, prepared to get the tea ready before Mycroft had to get back home.

“She will regret what she did.”

Greg paused with his legs over the edge of the bed, fingers flexing into the mattress before he pushed up and walked off, snagging a robe hanging off the back of a chair.

What could he really say to that? That he’d pictured the moment she came to regret it over and over, and always she came back begging to start over. Well, he had pictured that before but not so much lately.

There hadn’t been time to think about it with classes, and with Mycroft and Sherlock being in the picture now. Both a handful by themselves.

“Ears must’ve been burning.” Greg teased when a less than perfect Mycroft joined him in the kitchen, wearing his own robe that had been brought over at some point or another.  
Mycroft flushed ever so lightly, looking away as something in his expression clouded.

“Now who’s the one that needs to stuff it?” Greg tried to joke but he felt a little guilty as well. Walking over he wrapped his arms around the other man, pressing a kiss to his lips. Slowly he felt Mycroft relax into his arms, hands even coming up to rest on his hips.

Brushing his lips over Mycrofts cheek he smirked when the man chuckled.

“Oh, my scruff bothering you, eh?” Greg growled, rubbing his cheek against Mycrofts throat and tightening his grip around the man as he tried to wiggle away.

“Gregory!” Mycroft huffed, body shaking with the effort not to laugh.

It was a combination of the kettle whistling and Mycrofts phone ringing that broke them apart, and both pulled away slowly. Greg to stove and Mycroft to a more peaceful space to take the call.

Never a good thing when his phone rang this early. Greg was mentally preparing himself as he fixed a to-go mug, already having it ready by the time Mycroft came back into the kitchen fully dressed.

“Call me when you get home?”

Mycroft took the offered mug, looking a tad bit lost for a second before the expression changed to a cool cockiness that just was Mycroft Holmes.

Snorting in amusement Greg reached out to grab the others tie, tugging him forward.

“Call me, Mycroft.” He whispered against lips he dreaded being parted from for even a few hours.

Mycrofts answer was to press their lips together firmly, giving the smallest of nods.

How far he’d fallen Greg wasn’t sure but he knew it was too late to turn back now.

Bloody Holmes.

**Author's Note:**

> Read through that? Great! You're fantastic!!
> 
> Comments are my favorite. :3 Please and thank you.


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